


Reparo

by aalisse



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-03 17:22:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8722318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aalisse/pseuds/aalisse
Summary: Credence knows that "Reparo" spell only works on broken objects. He knows it won't help - but he lifts the wand anyway, pointing it at himself and whispering the spell quietly, his voice trembling.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a friend. Thanks to her for inspiration and to a person who came up with the original idea I saw on the internet a while ago.

Credence can't stop crying.

He's sitting in a corner of a small room in Newt's suitcase and hugs his bony knees, clutching a wand in his hand desperately and pressing his face into a soft, now a little damp fabric of his trousers.

He's been living in this suitcase for the past few weeks - and those weeks he can call the best in his entire life. He doesn't feel like a freak, he isn't obligated or expected to do anything, he's being treated like a guest and a friend. 

And that's exactly why he's crying.

He feels like he's finally got a permission to feel sorry for himself, like his emotions have finally been validated and that he's free to express them. He finally feels like he can be a person, not a broken soulless toy that everybody seems to see in him. It feels liberating - but it hurts twice as much.

He'd been hiding his feelings for so long he never learned how to deal with them. Now that he starts to let go, the first ones to show are the most familiar ones - pain and sadness.

He wishes now that he could just lock them away again, but it's too late - the dam is ruined and he feels like he's drowning. His insides seem to twist into a knot, his breathing shallow, no matter how hard he tries to calm down.

His head is full of ragged thoughts, but the only thing he really wants is to know what is so wrong with him that people want to change so much. He knows the obvious answer - the obscurus - but nobody in his life was aware of that, yet they saw him as a freak. He just wants to know what it is that gets them so disgusted with him. He wants to change that part of him, to make them stop looking at him with pity and disgust. The thought that maybe it's the people who are wrong, never crosses his mind.

Credence manages to take a deep breath, his fingers white on the wand. A thought crosses his mind that maybe one day he will learn a spell to put everything right. To make  _him_  right. Then he remembers that Newt's already showed him something similar.

He knows that  _Reparo_  only works on broken objects. He knows it won't help - but he lifts the wand anyway, pointing it at himself and whispering the spell quietly, his voice trembling.

His jacket feels different when the spell runs over it, but the darkness inside Credence, or his pain do not go away. Credence doesn't feel any less sad or broken - and a new wave of desperation washes over him, so he presses his face into his knees again, fighting for a breath and clutching at a wand like it's somebody's hand. He feels hopeless, like the fact that the spell didn't work is a proof that he is going to die a freak, and nothing can ever help him.

A knock on the doorframe startles him, and he raises his head automatically, to see Newt standing there, a dirty bucket in his hand, his expression unreadable. Credence doesn't hide the tears, doesn't try to wipe them off and scramble to his feet and behave like nothing happened. He just looks at Newt with red-rimmed teary eyes, and some part of him is hoping that the wizard will finally see how broken Credence really is, and maybe throw him out before he gets attached again.

Newt looks at him for a moment longer, then goes to put a bucket away. Credence breathes out, trying to put himself together and listening to the wizard's footsteps on the wooden floor. Then he feels Newt sit beside him.

He doesn't do anything else though - Newt just sits there, wiping his hands on a piece of white cloth, and Credence wishes silently, irritated, for him to just go away an leave him alone to cry his eyes out again. But Newt doesn't leave.

"You do know that it only works on broken objects," - he says finally, and it makes Credence's throat clench painfully.

"Yes," - he forces out, his grip on the wand tightening.

"Was something damaged?" - Newt asks, and Credence feels his shoulders stiffen. He wants to lie that his jacket was torn a little, but something stops him. He shakes his head no. - "I see," - Newt nods.

Credence doesn't look at him, but he can see Newt's hands fidgeting with the white peace of fabric. He hates making Newt nervous, but he doesn't dare to say anything to stop him from being anxious. That would require lying, and he doesn't want to lie to Newt.

"You aren't broken, you know," - Newt says suddenly. Credence turnes his head towards him slightly. He's surprised Newt understands, but doesn't let it show.

"I'm not like people want me to be," - he says quietly, his voice a little unsteady. - "And everyone tries to change me or use me"

Newt's lips tighten, becoming a thin line. He's silent for a while, and Credence realizes that he's hoping to be proven wrong, when a thought crosses his mind that Newt might just agree and leave it at that, or say nothing at all. Ironically enough Credence can feel that if Newt does that, he's going to be devastated, but at the same time there would be some part of him that would try to prove the both of them how wrong they are.

"Do you remember the Hippogriffs?" - Newt asks unexpectedly, and Credence looks up at him, surprised, before lowering his gaze again.

"Yes," - he says.

"Can you imagine a Hippogriff being treated like a niffler?"

The thought has Credence's lips twitch in a very small, very short smile.

"Yes," - he says again.

"And if you give a Hippogriff some gold and try to pet its belly - does it turn a Hippogriff into a niffler?" - Credence hears Newt smiling a little.

"No," - he says obediently.

"Then what makes you think that people treating you like a broken object actually makes you one?" - Newt asks, and there's something in his voice, like the phrase means more to him than he lets on.

Credence feels the tables turn in his head. It feels good. He feels lighter, like a big rock was lying on his shoulders and now it's lifted. But he also feels trapped again, and, when he realizes why, his eyes fill with tears again, because it reminds him of why he was sad in the first place - of loneliness.

"What do I become then?" - he asks, his voice shaky. - "How do I make people like me?"

Newt falls silent again. Then he sighs.

"You don't have to become anything. You have to be yourself," - he says finally, and the way he says it reminds Credence of children who admit to their mistakes by saying the rules they broke out loud. - "A wise man once told me that you can't change who you are, so you might as well enjoy being that. Otherwise people will like something you're trying to be, not you, and that won't feel good."

Credence nods. He thinks about it for a couple of seconds.

"What if I don't know who I am?" - he asks, looking up at the wizard beside him.

"Then you find out," - Newt answers, and there's a shy smile on his face now.

He looks genuine and sure of what he's saying, and Credence wants to be excited, because he's finally been shown a way. But he can't. He feels like he's stuck in sadness and anger, as if those feelings are dirt that clings to him, not letting go. And even if he gets out it'll still be on his shoes and trousers, reminding him of where he is from and making him feel like he's still a worthless broken toy.

"I'm not sure I can," - he breathes out, referring to the whole notion of change. - "I'm  _afraid_  I can't."

"You won't be alone," - Newt promises. He puts a hand on Credence's shoulder, grounding him. A wave of gratitude rises in Credence's chest and he wants to say something, but Newt is faster: - "Do you know what sort of ice-cream is your favorite?" - He asks.

Credence shakes his head no. Newt stands up and stretches his hand out to him, but Credence doesn't take it right away - he's not sure if he wants to go somewhere, or just sit here and cry a little more.

"Then lets find out," - Newt says, - "whether you are a person who loves vanilla, or a person who prefers chocolate."

Credence looks at him for a moment. Newt isn't smiling - he's completely serious, but his expression is light and unconcerned anyway. So Credence makes a decision and lets himself smile. He wipes his cheeks and takes Newt's hand.

 


End file.
